


The Fox and the Otter

by Cabach



Series: A Bull in an Otter's China Shop [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Animal Symbolism, Asexual Character, Charisma 10, F/F, F/M, Food Porn, Gentle femdom, Intelligence 1, Luck 10, M/M, Multi, Mutual Manipulation, Non-sexual Femdom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24301540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cabach/pseuds/Cabach
Summary: A "chance" encounter on the Strip gives the Otter exactly what she's been wanting: the opportunity to begin grooming the Fox, and a personal invitation to see the Bull.
Relationships: Female Courier/Vulpes Inculta
Series: A Bull in an Otter's China Shop [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754395
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. The Fox pt1

**Author's Note:**

> I always forget how complicated it is to keep things organized. Can you believe people actually have schedules that they write in? And then actually stick to it?? Wild.
> 
> IN this house, we publish four completely different, unfinished drafts within a week, all un-beta'd, like men.
> 
> Bonus points if y'all can find the reference to the Xbox 360 version

It was no secret that de la Garza held no fondness for the Legion. Sure, she had to admit that they were disciplined and orderly and united, with a clear hierarchy and a penchant for getting things done, but they were made up of rapists, slavers, and crude men. Safety and order through forced subjugation was still safe and orderly, but it was also still sustained through fear and violence and cruelty. These were the kinds of things that the Courier just couldn't forgive an entire faction for. 

Individuals, however, were a different matter.

" _Zorro_ ," she greeted the undercover frumentarius with a friendly nod of her head and using the nickname she had given him. According to Arcade, "vulpes" (and he had pronounced the 'v' like a 'w') was Latin for fox. It was interesting to note that that was the name he was known by in three different languages: English, Latin, and now Spanish.

"Courier," came Vulpes Inculta's curt reply. He was wearing his "Mr. Fox" suit and hat, with faint tan lines where his goggles would normally rest across his eyes.

De la Garza had just left the Lucky 38, ED-E trailing behind her, to find the fox waiting for her at the end of the steps. His stance was casual, but the way he pointedly stayed _just_ off the staircase spoke of the borders between the two. He was waiting for her.

"Have plans for today?" she asked lightly, and then tried to joke, "I mean, beside the usual soterfuge, and the like."

He tried to smile, but it came across more of a grimace. The Courier took that to mean that his schedule, if not clear before, was cleared now.

"Wonderful!" she beamed. "I've been meaning to ask if you'd have lunch with me."

His gaze dropped to the covered basket that hung from the crook of her elbow, suspicion obvious.

De la Garza laughed easily. "Sorry to disappoint, I'm sure you have much more exciting ideas as to the contents, but it's only brahmin _carnitas_."

She lifted the corner of the blanket draped over the basket to prove it and the mouthwatering aroma of slow cooked beef began filling the air. Several passersby began to sniff the air in interest, and Vulpes' stomach rumbled audibly, but de la Garza was too polite to say anything--though inwardly, she was patting herself on the back: this recipe was passed down for generations in her family back home and it had been several years (that she could remember) since she had last prepared it. Of course, it was a special occasion, but she was both pleased and proud that it still withstood the test of time. 

"Soooo? Lunch?"

Vulpes spared another glace at the basket, then straightened his tie with forced nonchalance that de la Garza saw straight through. Her perpetual smile grew just a touch wider: _Tartarabuela_ Estela María's recipe never went wrong.

"I suppose I can spare the time," he said reluctantly, as if he hadn't practically been waiting on her doorstep. He eyed ED-E, weighing the pro to con ratio and finding that the benefits outweighed the risks.

"Wonderful!" de la Garza said again, offering her arm to the spy. 

He gave a quick glance around, just with his eyes, but the Strip was uncharacteristically less crowded than usual and the two of them drew very little attention. Vulpes allowed her to link their arms, his other hand automatically moving to rest on top of hers. Careful not to have the additional weight of the pip-boy on her forearm dig into Vulpes, de la Garza led them through the Strip. 

This way (with one of her hands preoccupied with carrying the picnic basket and the other holding onto his arm, and with both of his arms preoccupied with holding both of hers) neither could launch a surprise attack against the other as they walked toward the gate that led deeper into the Strip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Zorro (zho-roh) - "fox"  
> Carnitas (car-knee-tahs) - "little meats" (meat for tacos that has been braised and slo cooked for a long time until tender)  
> Tartarabuela (tar-tar-ahb-welah) - great great grandmother


	2. The Fox pt2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me @ Vulpes: why u always lyyyyyyin

The Courier adjusted her pace to match Vulpes'; she knew she was tall, especially for a woman, but it was nice in a way, especially since Vulpes was a tad shorter than the average man. The two of them saw eye to eye (literally, not figuratively or philosophically) and that meant that she didn't need to worry about the wide brim of her cowboy hat knocking into Vulpes' face as they walked, or blocking him from view. 

"Subterfuge," Zorro said suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"Not 'soterfuge'. _Sub_ terfuge. You misspoke earlier."

"Ah, so is that what you're up to, _mi pequeño zorro? Subterfuge_. How exciting! Is it against myself or House, this time?"

"Neither," the fox replied. His voice was still steady in its faux chipper tone, so de la Garza could tell he hadn't understood her. 

He jerked his chin back toward the eternally burning bonfire on Gomarrah's rooftops. De la Garza was uneasy every time she saw the flames. She knew firsthand the dangers that fire could carry, especially in such a dry climate. 

"Our eyes are on the Omertas this time."

She frowned in displeasure.

"What, you disapprove?" he asked, tone on the verge of mocking. "I'd have thought that from your reaction when we first met, you'd appreciate our work in destabilizing them."

"It's not that…" de la Garza frowned deeper, trying to make the words make sense. 

"Then what is it? Did they rob you unfairly of your caps?" His voice was drawing closer and closer to genuinely derisive as he rattled off possibilities for why the Courier, known across the Mojave for liking and being liked by people, held a dislike for someone.

"No."

"Give you a disease?"

"No!" 

"Oh! I've got it! Did you fall in love with one of the whores?" His tone had shifted gear, going from mocking to jesting.

She rolled her eyes in spurious annoyance, nudging his side with her elbow as sharply as their position would allow (de la Garza felt the telltale edge of a switchblade, but decided not to comment on it). 

"Wrong again. For a spy, you're really bad at guessing games."

"So tell me," he said, pointedly ignoring the jab at his incompetency. "What did the degenerate Omertas do to offend you?"

"I don’t like them. They are...” she paused again, trying to remember the word in English. “Unkind," was the word she finally settled with.

Vulpes stopped walking, drawing the pair to a halt. "They were ' _unkind'_?" 

"They treat their employees _similar a basura_!" she exclaimed, growing uncharacteristically heated in a short amount a time. "They get them addicted on whatever chems are handy and then keep them trapped in unpayable debts and threats in addition to the promise of a steady supply of drugs!"

Her hand had unconsciously gripped hard into Vulpes' arm and she relaxed her grip, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

" _Lo siento,_ I apologize. There is no lost love between the two of us, but I do not mean to bring up such a distasteful topic."

Vulpes fixed her with a long, odd look, before continuing their walk. "You despise them and yet the word you use to justify it is “unkind”? Surely you are full of surprises, Courier."

"And hungry," she added, lightening the mood some.

He let out a barking laugh, then stopped suddenly, seemingly surprised at himself, and shook his head. He had a nice laugh, de la Garza decided, though she could tell that even he wasn't used to hearing it. 

They drew near the Ultra Luxe. She tugged him away from the path that led to the doors. There were a cluster of tall fan palms across from the fountain that provided a good bit of shade at this hour, and had looked like the perfect spot for a picnic the last time she had found herself with business in the luxurious casino.

It was a little spot just out of sight of the Strip proper, and since the Ultra Luxe had very little influx of gamblers and travelers, there wouldn't be a lot of traffic passing by them. The spot was private enough that they could talk without reasonable fear of being overheard, but public enough that neither of them would dare make a move against the other.

"Will you hold this?" de la Garza asked sweetly, offering the basket. He took it, looking oddly domestic holding the basket in his suit and with the noticeable lack of dog head. The Courier took off the blanket, again allowing the delicious smell of her cooking to waft through the air again. She shook out the blanket, revealing it to be several times larger than it had first appeared folded up. 

She caught Vulpes inspecting the design. "Like it?" she asked, holding the blanket in front of her, showing off the reds, gray, and black jagged diamonds and esoteric geometric triangles.

"It's an interesting pattern," he said. Vulpes shifted the basket to one arm, reaching the other out to feel the fabric between his fingers. "I've never seen the like of it."

"I should hope not! I wove it myself." De la Garza laid it on the ground, providing a place for them to sit where they wouldn't get sand in their shoes. With even a few grains of sand in her shoe, it would rub parts of her foot raw that she wouldn't notice until that night when the boots came off and she wanted to avoid that needless pain.

"Really?" he asked, surprise coloring his voice. "Where did you learn how to make that?"

They both sat down on the blanket. De la Garza pulled her boots off and put them to the side, just off of the blanket so she wouldn't get sand on it. Vulpes didn't follow suit, though he was polite enough to knock his shoes together to dislodge most of the sand before joining her.

"Mamá and Tío Tse,” she answered, taking off her desperado hat and placing it upside down on the blanket next to her. Vulpes’ hat joined hers, but right-side up. “They were the head weavers in our tribe. They only taught me how to make diamonds, but they could make multiple animals in a single blanket. They were beautiful. I wish you could see them.”

“You’re a _tribal_?” he asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice.

De la Garza smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile, and she disliked that. “Surprising? Am I “too civilized” in your eyes?” 

“The fact that you speak back to me proves me otherwise,” Vulpes muttered darkly, making de la Garza laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> mi pequeño zorro (mee pek-kehn-yo zoh-roh) - my little fox  
> similar a basura (sih-mih-lahr ah bah-suh-ra) - like garbage  
> lo siento (low sih-ehn-toh) - I'm sorry


	3. The Fox pt3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I was smart, I'd either stretch this out in a schedule or else wait until I've finished everything, but I'm impatient and I desire validation so y'all're gettin half a dozen chapters in one night and then most likely a super long pause once all that is posted..

“How well can you handle spice?” she asked, returning their subject to food.

“I can handle it,” was his indignant reply. 

“ _Relajar_ ,” she soothed, though she doubted the validity of his statement. He was awfully pale, and de la Garza always had her doubts with white people (especially men, with their stubborn pride) and their ability to handle spice. Boone was an excellent example of low tolerance to spice, hence why he was never allowed to cook anything for the group.

Carefully, she took a small chunk of meat on the tip of a fork and offered the fork to Vulpes. He raised his hand to take the utensil and ED-E, who had been forgotten about, beeped warningly at him, making him snatch his hand back as the eyebot shot a small but powerful laser at him.

“ _ED-E_!” the Courier chastised as if to a dog, pronouncing his name “ee-dee”. She fixed the robot with a stern glare and offered the fork again to Vulpes. It resulted in the same reaction, except this time, ED-E managed to graze Vulpes’ hand.

“I could take care of this problem quickly,” he glowered, voice frustrated, as he rubbed the back of his hand. He was swallowing more often, the closer the prospect of food came, the more his mouth watered.

De la Garza shifted the glare to the fox. “I’m sorry he shot you, but if you lay a hand on him, I will be very cross with you.”

She didn’t go into detail what would happen to him if he attacked ED-E, and de la Garza herself didn’t know what she would do if the situation arose. But there was a more pressing matter: how was she to get the food to Vulpes if he couldn’t move toward her?

A theory suddenly came to mind

“Here, I’ve got an idea! Say ‘ah’.” De la Garza offered him the meat again, but instead of offering for him to take the fork, she held it so he could take the bite directly, her other hand held underneath to catch any drippings that fell.

“You’re joking,” he deadpanned. “I’m not going to let you feed me like… like some _meretor_!”

“I’m not sure what that means, but do you have a better idea? You could always leave if you wanted…?” She knew he would stay. He might be prideful, but the proximity to the heavenly smelling carnitas without getting to taste it would be too much to handle if he left now. 

By the ever so slight defeated slump of his shoulders, she could tell that he knew, and from her widening grin, he could tell that _she_ could tell that he knew.

Accepting defeat, he opened his mouth, allowing de la Garza to delicately place the end of the fork near his mouth. Bitterly he took the bite, chapped lips dragging over the tines.

“There. Happy n—” Vulpes trailed off. He chewed slowly, eye fluttering closed as he savored the bit of meat. 

De la Garza couldn’t stop the self-satisfied grin that overtook her features. He rubbed his lips together and they were so dry she could _hear_ them crackling against each other, and her smile faded. Vulpes continued as if he didn’t notice, but de la Garza _did_. The Courier had been a little heavy handed with the jalapeño, and she knew from experience that if he got even a little bit of the chile’s oil on his lips, he would be in unavoidable pain for hours, even if his tolerance was as high as he insisted. 

“ _Zorro_?”

“Hmm?” He sounded almost sleepy.

“Would you like some more?”

His eyes brightened, though his answer was calm. “I would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Tempestad for catching the duplicated chapter! They also made an excellent point relating to translations, so those will also be put up as well in the near future
> 
> Translations:  
> Relajar (rehl-eh-har) - relax [Spanish]  
> Meretor (mmmer-eh-tor) - prostitute, but one who is fawned over [Latin]  
> Zorro (Zho-roh) - fox [Spanish]


	4. The Fox pt4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call him "ee-dee" so don't even @ me. Most def Mass Effect's fault. Bioware owns my entire ass and not even in the good way

She dug around in the bottom of the basket, hoping she had brought what she was looking for. There it was! De la Garza pulled out a small silver tin. She opened it, revealing the shiny, pale yellow substance inside.

“What is that?” Vulpes asked, wary again.

 _“Es bálsamo labial_ … ehhh... wax for your lips. It will protect your lips from getting burned from the carnitas.”

“And how am I supposed to apply it?” he asked, with an annoyed look at ED-E.

“I’ll apply it for you!” she answered brightly.

Vulpes fixed her with a withering stare. She waved the tin at him, smile not faltering. Sighing, he scooted minutely closer to her and looked at her expectantly, hands resting in his lap.

De la Garza also pulled out a small cloth, wetting it with water from her canteen and wiping her hands. It bothered her how little people in the Mojave knew about hygiene, and even though she had just washed her hands minutes earlier, de la Garza didn’t want to risk the possibility of contamination. 

“You don’t need to worry, it won’t sting.”

Hands cleaned, she rubbed a little bit of ointment onto her thumb and reached toward Vulpes. On instinct, he drew back.

“Hold still,” she ordered gently, reaching her other hand out to hold his chin. His entire body went rigid, but to his credit he didn’t pull back again.

Gently, she stroked her thumb across his bottom lip, spreading the healing wax on cracked skin. She stuck her tongue out in concentration, tender in her ministrations as she moved to the top lip. 

It was difficult to pull away once she finished. His cheeks were softly pink, and his posture was stiff, but he was otherwise extremely pliable beneath her hands. De la Garza made an appreciative sound as she tilted his head one way and then the other, simultaneously inspecting her work and testing the length he would go in allowing her to manipulate him.

Other than his tightly clenched fists that lay in his lap, he didn’t move until de la Garza finally let him go. Rather proud of him, she spread some lip salve on her own lips, using a different finger and much less tenderness than she had with him.

“Now rub them together like this.” The Courier demonstrated, Vulpes following suit, the movements unfamiliar. There was a flush steadily rising to his ears that funnily enough would’ve been hidden under his hat (or his dog head) had he been wearing it.

“Good! You should take better care of yourself, _Zorro_ ,” she said, busying herself in preparing a pair of carnitas burritos, pointedly giving Vulpes some time to compose himself as she spread the meat, soft cheese, and green onions on homemade tortillas and then tucked the ends in and rolled them tightly.

“You’re much too skinny, and if you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be of much use to anyone, especially your _señor Cesar_.”

Vulpes gave her a harsh look. “Don’t say that so loudly!” he hissed, looking around to see if someone had overheard her.

De la Garza huffed a laugh. “I chose this spot on purpose, _Zorro_ , because it’s secluded enough for us to speak freely. _Podria ser_ _tonta,_ I might be dumb. But I’m not stupid. And I’m hardly wrong, especially when it comes to food.”

She placed the plate on his lap. He glanced up at ED-E, nervous even though he hid it well.

“You don’t need to worry about him. You can feed yourself, just fine. Isn’t that _right,_ ED-E?” The last question was aimed a little harshly at the eyebot. He beeped blithely, as if he hadn’t zapped Vulpes earlier and was just a harmless metal orb, who happened to be hovering above them as a neutral third party watching over their picnic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Es bálsamo labial (ehs bahl-sah-mo lah-bee-ahl) - lip balm  
> señor Cesar (sey-nyor ceh-zar)  
> Podria ser tonta (pod-ree-yah sehr tohn-tah) - I am stupid (but tonta is not very intelligent but also like... silly)


	5. The Fox pt5

Vulpes hesitantly picked up his burrito. Even though he held it incorrectly, the tortilla held and the burrito didn’t unravel. De la Garza was very proud of her wrapping skills. The frumentarius raised the burrito to his mouth and then caught de la Garza looking at him.

“What?”

“No, nothing,” she responded airily. “Go on, try it.” 

He took a bite from the corner of the burrito, and his expression melted. De la Garza allowed herself a slight cackle behind her hand at his reaction, much more noticeable than the first. She moved to make her own burrito, putting a larger handful of green onions on top before wrapping it up.

“How is it?” she asked, looking up to find that Vulpes was already finishing his second burrito. The Courier laughed, “Would you like another one?”

“No,” he answered, though he was staring hungrily at her own burrito, then pointedly _not_ looking at it. 

“There’s plenty of food left. You can have more if you ask for it. You look like you need it.”

He huffed in offense, looking away, and de la Garza laughed again, already making another one.

She handed him a third burrito, saying, “I’ll be gracious this time. You can have as many as you want.”

The way he devoured her food made her wonder what the state of the Legion’s affairs were in. Sure, maybe her cooking was just _that good_ , but de la Garza had been around long enough to recognize hunger when she saw it. All of the legionnaires she had come across were all strong men and in good shape, but noticeably underfed. If this was the state the legionaries were kept in, she shuddered to imagine the state of their slaves. She wondered if the Legion kept its men just above starving on purpose or if it was a lack of proper planning on their part. De la Garza had half a mind to find out herself, but that involved visiting the Fort itself in person, and she hadn’t had an opportunity to do that. Considering the level of fortifications that the NCR had put up to discourage a frontline charge from the Legion, and the Legion’s tendency to shoot and/or crucify anyone trying to cross the river, it didn’t look like she’d be getting into the Fort any time soon. 

Distracting herself from her thoughts, de la Garza finally bit into her own burrito. With satisfaction (but not surprise), she found that it was as delicious as Vulpes made it out to be. It was easy to fall into a rhythm, taking a few bites of her own food, then making another burrito for Vulpes as he wolfed down a total of six of them before letting out a contented breath.

De la Garza swallowed the last bite of her burrito before she asked the question that had been on her mind for the last few minutes, “When’s the last time you were full?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I'm just hit with the desire for things to be S O F T, ya feel?


	6. The Fox pt6

Vulpes fixed her with a look that she interpreted as uncomfortable. “Caesar’s last _triumphus_.”

“Was that like a… _desfile_?”

“A what?”

The Courier pursed her lips. “I forget the word in English. A lot of people in a line, lots of music, celebrating, pretty women and men in costume, many people cooking. You know what I mean?”

Vulpes nodded. “A _triumphus_ is similar. After Caesar would return from a campaign, victorious, there would be a parade held in his honor.”

“A parade!” the Courier interjected. “That’s what it is! _Desfile_! A parade! Continue, what was it like?”

“It was… spectacular. The leaders of the tribes Caesar had conquered were led before him in chains and then ceremonially executed…” he paused, as if waiting for de la Garza’s reaction. She let out a breath, not surprised or disgusted at the news, just… sad, but pressed on, refusing to show any sign of discomfort. She tried to divert the conversation to a slightly more pleasant topic.

“Go on. Tell me about the food!”

“We’d roast entire halved brahmin, corn, potatoes, sometimes choctaw if we could catch one.”

“Oooooh, I haven’t seen a choctaw since I crossed the _pequeño Colorado._ ” A choctaw was a hog that was common in New Mexico, Oklahoma, and the panhandle of Texas last time de la Garza was there. They were large, hairy, and as dangerous as they were delicious. Choctaw were a staple to her tribe’s diet and it was good to hear that they were still around.

“I normally make carnitas with choctaw meat, but I only had beef available here,” she continued, somewhat apologetically. “Besides, I noticed you had white spots on your nails, so a little more red meat in your diet couldn’t hurt.”

He looked at his nails, extending his fingers. De la Garza had to bite back a laugh at the action.

“White spots?”

“ _Guero_ says it’s a ‘zinc deficiency’, whatever that means. I’ve always heard that it meant you should eat more red meat. I’m curious, what spices did you use?”

Vulpes shrugged unknowingly. “Even during a _triumphus_ , food was more sustenance than something to enjoy. It was more important to provide the men with nourishment rather than a delicacy.”

De la Garza scoffed. “So you’ve conquered eighty-six tribes from the southwest, some of the most skilled with spices and fresh ingredients, and they’re not being used to provide good food for your army?”

“There are more important things than food,” the fox said defensively.

“ _Lindo_ , you should be smart enough to know that food can make or break an army. How many times have you destroyed a caravan or two to throw the NCR into chaos, hmm? And would we have sat down so civilly if I hadn’t first tempted you with homemade cooking? I don’t think so.”

The fox made a noncommittal noise, conceding to her point. It was almost unfortunate that he couldn't understand her, de la Garza very much would have liked to see his reaction to being called " _Lindo"._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Triumphus (try-umph-us) - a victory parade after a military success [Latin]  
> Desfile (des-fee-ley) - parade [SPanish]  
> pequeño Colorado (peh-kay-nyo koh-lo-rah-do) - the little Colorado, the river  
> Guero (wey-roh) - pale (referring to Arcade)  
> Lindo (lyn-doh) - pretty boy


End file.
